Gears of War: The End Game
by MissScorp
Summary: With his life hanging in the balance, Damon Baird's last thoughts are of the woman he loves ((DB/OFC))


**Author's Note:** This is a flashback one-shot set during GOW 2 when Baird has been captured by the Locust and is awaiting transport to the processing center (the flashback is before E-Day of course). It does tie into my other GOW story (**Rise of the Lambent** and has a sequel **Sacred Bonds**) but it is intended as a standalone-read alone one shot.

**A/N** **2**: The question was raised about rating because of the swear factor. I'm writing on a basis from the novel perspective, which I believe are rated in the T environment because they are mass marketed to a younger crowd because of the connection to the games. I will be reviewing my choice, however, by checking the rest of the fandom because I definitely do not want to underrate this and have a parent come after me with a Lancer! :) So for right now, this is T+ for the swearing (my own rating creation)!

Reviews are always appreciated and I own nothing of course but the idea and Lia!

* * *

**_Chapter One._**

_It is not chains that bind a husband and wife together. It is the threads, the dozens of tiny little threads that a husband and wife sew together through the years that binds them into one. _(Unknown).

**The Inner Hollow, First Day of Frost, 14 A.E.**

It was after his capture by the Locust, a short while after his placement in this cylindrical detention cell, that without a thought, without a care, Corporal Damon S. Baird allowed his mind to wander. He floated back in time to when life was simple, to a time when nobody had so much as heard of the Locust Horde and where his only real problem was his fucking bitch mother trying to keep him from the girl he was in love with.

**THE BAIRD ESTATE, JACINTO; THREE YEARS BEFORE E-DAY.**

She was seventeen and leggy, with hair that burned like a living flame and eyes that smoldered like smoke. Her beauty struck him, as it always did. A fist to the gut. She sighed as she watched him dismantle an old truck for spare parts. She wore a floral skirt and a bright-blue top that left her shoulders and most of her arms bare. He could smell her, over the scents of gasoline and motor oil; he could smell that heady taunting floral fragrance that was Lia.

"Why are you so surprised that she's threatening to have you cut off from your inheritance if you don't join the COG?" _If you don't stop seeing me_? She sighed again as she got up and walked to him. "Damon, haven't you figured out yet that she _knows_ just what buttons to push in order to get you to do what she _wants_ you too?"

Internally her thought was; _The battle axe has only been manipulating you from the moment that you started walking and talking_.

"I'm not doing it," he muttered. "I'm not going to let them force me into giving up my dreams of being an engineer. Not this time. They can go to hell first."

She began to rub his tense shoulders in slow, soothing circles. "If you're not going to allow them to push you into doing something you don't want too," she said softly. "Why are you still brooding over it?"

"I'm not brooding, Lia."

But he was and he knew it. Both of his parents were freezing him out because he was openly opposing their demand that he join the military and announce his betrothal to Abigail Aster. He'd been wondering if it was really worth it, if he wasn't making a mistake, a terrible mistake, by being so desperate to have his independence, to have _her_. Because the idea of giving her up, of no longer being with her, was tempting and unthinkable-absolutely unthinkable. Yet he _had_ begun thinking about it. To wonder about it more and more every time she returned to the Academy.

He'd begun testing himself by making up excuses for why he couldn't see her, pick her up from the Academy, or come over while she was home for the weekend. Every time he thought he'd broken free, that he'd cast off the chains in which she'd bound him, she made him fall for her all over again. It was join the fucking military and dump the girl he loved or his inheritance. And he was struggling with doing the one thing that would absolutely guarantee him his financial future. His father would tell him that he needed to think it over. Reconsider. But when Lia had walked into his workshop that afternoon, he'd been so crowded with love, with an almost overwhelming need that he hadn't been able to think about anything _but_ being with her.

"Then what is it?" She sat behind him, heedless of the oil and dirt that was on the ground, and slid her hands down his arms into his. "Damon, I know you've been blowing me off for the last couple of weeks. Why?"

"I haven't been blowing you off, Lia. I've just been busy, that's all." But he shouldn't have been surprised that she suspected something was up. She'd always been attuned to his thoughts, moods, needs. Even when they'd been kids she had always seemed to know when he was hurt or angry, sad and lonely. She'd always been there to listen-whether it was him bitching about his folks or just him telling her about his hopes and dreams. She had always been quietly understanding, his foundation of comfort and support whenever he'd needed it. And that was another one of the reasons, one of the dozen of reasons in fact, that he always chose her over his inheritance. Lia loved him for the man that he was and not for his financial wealth or social status. When she looked at him, she saw _him_.

"Damon." She'd noticed that his voice was calm, just a bit detached. A sure sign that he wasn't being completely honest with her. "If you want to break up with me-"

"Goddamn it, Lia," he snapped at her. "I _don't_ want to break up with you!" He angled his head, fixed her with a burning stare that was ripe with frustration and something close to guilt. But then he looked away, busied himself with removing the vehichles wiring loom. Another sign he was not being totally honest with her. "Alright," he said after she'd continued to remain silent. "I have been blowing you off, I admit it. But my friggin' parents are threatening to take away my inheritance if I don't join the COG and agree to marry Abigail Aster!"

"I see."

"Is that all you have to say?" She wasn't reacting as he'd expected. She wasn't shocked, angry, hurt or even upset. She simply looked...interested. "_'I see?_'"

"What do you want me to say, Damon? That I'm surprised?" She nuzzled at his ear, brushed her lips over the side of his neck. "I'm not. I know how much your mom hates me. And I know she's always disapproved of our relationship. Just as I know that a marriage between you and Abigail Aster-" she turned her head, looked at him. "Is the stepping stone that your mother plans to use in order to push your family into the next social circles. The same social circles that families like the Fenix's, the Aster's, and the Worthington's all occupy."

"Fuck that," he snarled. He turned his head, looked in her eyes. "I won't let my mother use me to raise her status in society."

He said it so fiercely, so viciously, that Lia's heart quivered. But the way that he'd said it, that emotionally driven verbal explosion triggered memories of similar conversations they had had in the past. Elinor Lytton Baird made her mother seem like mother of the year. Gently, she stroked her hands up his arms, down his back. "Your mom is a product of her environment. Just like my mom, she only sees your worth in terms of what you can not only provide to the COG, but what you can provide socially for her."

"Is this how you deal with your family?"

It took her a minute, and that was a jolt, to realize that he meant her mother and not her brothers and father. "I'm luckier than you because I have my father and brothers to love me. And I have you." She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "You notice when I am hurt or angry, lonely or sad. And you are there for me whenever and however I need you to be." The smile she gave him was so brilliant that Baird felt everything shift inside him. "What more do I need really?"

"How do you handle her lack of interest in you—in your life?" he asked the question in a quiet voice but Lia heard the desperation, the hurt that was beneath it. She ran her fingers through his hair, held him close.

"I learned to accept it," she said softly. "It was the only thing I could do."

"Learn to accept it," he said slowly, almost as if the words were being said in a language he didn't understand. "That's a friggin' load of bullshit and you know it."

Lia sighed. _Moody, moody man,_ she thought fondly. "Damon, my mother's disinterest in me isn't personal. It's just that she doesn't see how her daughter can be worth as much to the Coalition as her sons. To her," some of the anger and resentment that she harbored showed now, darkening her eyes and coating her voice. "I am nothing but a breeding machine for the next generation of male gears."

He turned his head to kiss her forehead. "You're worth a whole lot more than just a friggin' baby maker to me."

"That's why I don't care about what she says or how she feels about me," she said with a warm smile. As much as she tended to comfort and soothe him, he tended to do the same for her. "It's healthier, more practical and sensible all around if I shower my love and affection upon the people who return it. I am who I am because I have people to love me-because _you_ love me."

"You've always been too damn sensible about this shit," he replied. "I've never figured out whether I admire that or just find it friggin' annoying."

Oh, how she remembered that dark passion in him, that echo of raw vulnerability and boyish uncertainty. It had drawn her to him even as her heart and soul screamed at her to stay away. Right or wrong, she had fallen in love with him and wasn't giving him up without a fight. _Screw you, you frigid bitch_, she thought viciously. _I'm not going to let you destroy him_. "Your mom just doesn't know how to deal in terms of what is best for anybody but herself."

"Yeah, no shit." There was the familiar sting of bitterness in the words, and she could taste it even as he did. "Lia, should I join the friggin' COG?" He hadn't meant to blurt the question out like that but he just didn't know what to do anymore. Giving her up was not an option but he didn't think he could give up his inheritance either. "Make my folks happy by doing at least _one_ thing that they want me to do?"

"No, I don't think you should join the COG," she said seriously.

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"You would only be giving in to _their_ demands and giving up _your_ dreams is why," she pointed out. "And we both know that it wouldn't end there."

"Yeah." He sighed softly. "I know it wouldn't be."

"Give it up, Damon."

"Give what up?" It took him a minute to realize what she meant. "You mean give up my _inheritance_?" At her nod, he let out a few choice expletives before muttering, "Woman, you've completely lost your friggin' mind."

"I assure you that I haven't _'lost my mind_.'" At his _ffff_ she poked him in the side. "I'm completely serious, Damon. Give it up. Walk away from it and from _them_."

He studied her for a moment. _What the hell has gotten into her_? he wondered. "Lia," he drew in a breath and slowly let it out. "What are you saying here exactly? Because I'm hearing you tell me to give up my inheritance. And while that sounds like something you would tell me to do, I can't believe it is what you are _telling_ me to do."

"That's exactly what I _am_ telling you to do. Give it up. Tell them to stuff it up their asses, that you don't want it or need it."

"Uh...hello," he said dryly. "Giving up my inheritance means _no_ money. I'd be completely cut off. On my own. No better than a bum."

"But you'd be free to go to engineering school," she pointed out. "You wouldn't have to worry about your parents' demands, expectations or their blasted permission. You'd be _free_, Damon."

When he only blinked, stared, she got to her feet and began to pace in small, tight circles. Baird watched her as she prowled the garage, and he was thinking while he watched her. He couldn't deny that her suggestion didn't have merit. Nor that it wouldn't solve the dilemma he'd been in for the last year and a half. But there was one problem that he couldn't get over: not having any money. "Say I give up my inheritance," he said slowly. "What would I do? Where would I live?"

"You can stay with my folks," she said. "You know that Dad has always said you were welcome to move in with us if things got real bad with your folks."

"Or we could get married." Odd, he thought he'd be nervous, at least a teensy bit. But he was perfectly calm, felt completely confident and was absolutely certain about what direction he wanted to take with his life. _I mean it. I want to marry her. I probably always have but was just being an asshole about admitting it. But now... well, it just seems like the right thing to do_.

"Married?" She said, laughing. "Damon, are you serious? We can't get _married_."

"I'm dead serious, Lia."

"We're too young to be even _thinking_ about marriage." What in the hell had gotten into him? she wondered. One minute they were talking about him giving up his inheritance and the next he was proposing marriage to her. It was preposterous! But both joy and fear were swamping her, threatening to drown her within the battle they were waging inside her. Baird snorted.

"We're a few months shy of being eighteen," he said.

"Even if I agree to this madness," Lia said. "The _law_ still says that we are too young."

Baird's expression relaxed into a kind of intense concentration, almost like a sense of doubt. He rolled to his feet and slowly walked towards her. "All we need to get married is certified copies of our birth certificates and one of our parents to appear with us in front of the magistrate," he said. "And considering _my_ folks would definitely object to us getting married, I'm thinking we could ask your dad to go with us."

"Damon, you're talking sheer and utter nonsense." Lia shook her head and spun away when he tried to grab hold of her. "We live in a real world and if you'd come back to it _you'd_ realize I'm right and agree that we shouldn't get married."

"Would you stand still for a friggin' minute?" he gritted when she spun away from him again. "Damn it, woman, why are you being so friggin' stubborn about this?"

"Because one of us needs to be cool-headed and serious here," she retorted primly. "And considering that you've seemingly taken leave of your senses, I guess that person needs to be me."

"Gotcha!" Baird said triumphantly when he finally grabbed hold of one hand and tugged her back towards him.

"Let me go, Damon," Lia growled. But her words lacked heat and Damon knew it. She wasn't as confident as she proclaimed, nor as immune to his suggestion as she pretended.

"Not until you see that I am being dead serious." He slid his arms around her, held her tight. "Marry me, Lia."

She looked up into his eyes, nearly drowned in those blue, blue depths. She felt her resolve wavering, felt herself weakening. "Damon-"

"Lia, I love you," he interjected in an impatient voice. "But if you're holding out for that whole get down on the one knee thing, forget it. This is as close as you're getting. Now, will you marry me or not?"

Her resolve shattered. She felt tears threaten. He was the only man she'd ever loved-the only one she knew that she _would_ ever love. Her heart and soul ached with the want of it, with the want to spend the rest of her life with him, with the want to not only become his wife but eventually the mother of his children as well. "Am I going to get a ring with this proposal at least?"

"Only if you say yes."

She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry. She lifted her eyes to his. She only had one answer in which to give him and knew in her heart that it was the right one. "Then yes."

"Damn it... wait, you said yes? You friggin' said yes?" When she nodded and smiled at him, he took off his silver class ring and slid it on her finger. "This'll have to do until I can get you a real one." Then he cupped the back of her neck, drawing her to him. "I love you, Lia." He said, lowering his mouth to hers.

"I love you too, Damon." She whispered a second before his lips touched hers.

* * *

That was seventeen years ago. He'd married that beautiful girl and together they'd made a beautiful son. A son that he feared he would not see grow to manhood, get married and have a child of his own. And a wife that he'd never get to see-or kiss and touch again. Hopeless anger filled Baird and he slammed his fists against the door of his prison. _No, goddamn it_, he screamed silently. _I promised her that I'd come back safe. I won't break my promise. Not to her_. He rest his head against the cool metal and shut his eyes. Heavy footsteps approaching had him tensing in anticipation, in preparation for whatever was coming towards him. _Alright you sons of_ bitches, he thought, bunching his hands into fist and readying to deliver the fight of his life._ Bring it on. _But hearing a familiar booming voice had hope flickering in his chest.

"Hey, is that Cole?!" He called out eagerly. He slammed a hand against the canister door in order to get the man's attention. And almost felt like weeping when he spied Cole's larger than life frame coming towards him. "Hey Cole! Get me outta here, man! Can ya hear me?!"

Cole nodded his head, a big smile wreathing his face. "I hear ya, Baird."

"Then get me the hell outta here!" Baird snapped impatiently. It was obvious that being confined in a cylinder that was roughly the size and shape of a coffin was beginning to rattle the seemingly unflappable nerves of the corporal. Dom couldn't much blame him for wanting to be freed from the canister. _But he could be a little bit less of an asshole about it_, he thought. Cole signaled to him to give him a hand in prying the heavy metal door open. Even working together it was a mother fucker to get the door to pop free. Baird came stumbling out as soon as the door opened, coughing violently as dirt and dust spilled out in a huge cloud with him. Dom studied him with a critical eye, thinking that the man was just a tad bit pale.

"About time... " he gasped. "What the hell took you guys so long?"

"You're welcome," Marcus said dryly, tossing a spare Lancer to him. As Baird regrouped and shook off the emotional baggage his brush with death had left him, Marcus turned to look at the other canisters that surrounded the small grotto in which they stood. _What the hell are the Locust up too_? he wondered silently. "What the hell are the Locust doing taking prisoners?" he asked Baird.

"They're locking people up in these things," Baird said with a jerk of his hand in the direction of the canister he'd just been freed from. "Taking them deeper into the Hollow. They were going to..." he paused for a second, as if to figure out just how to accurately describe what the Locust had planned to do with him. "_Process_ me, man! Whatever that means..." It was one of the few times Dom had ever seen the cocky and arrogant Corporal look...afraid. It left Marcus shaken to see that kind of fear, that kind of human emotion on the face of someone who always seemed so cocksure about themselves. _Shit, if the Locust can manage to rattle a dickhead like Baird, imagine what they could do to civilians,_ he thought.

Dom felt his blood run cold and immediately thought, _Maria_... But he pushed the thought aside almost as soon as it took form. He told himself that his wife was _not_ in one of these detention centers, that she was not being held in one of these canisters, she was safe somewhere and just waiting for him to find her. Cole shook his head in disbelief and said in a hard, angry voice, "Shit, I'll show these Locust bitches some process!"

He was more than a little disgusted by what Baird had said and it showed. But it was just another reason on an already long list of reasons for why he wanted to do whatever he could-whatever he had too, in order to rid his world of the Locust. Marcus too was disquieted and disgusted by what the Locust were doing- to civilians as well as fellow gears. But above his disquiet and beyond his disgust was a burning anger and fear. And a deeper desire to wipe the Locust from the face of the planet. He gave a signal with his hand. "Come on, we need to check this out."

He turned to walk away, Dom following him and so did not see the flash of fear that crossed Baird's face or hear the desperation in his voice when he leaned close to Cole to ask, "Hey, Cole...?" He swallowed around the hard knot of fear that lodged in his throat, burned in his belly. "Did Lia..." he reached up to pull his earpiece out, fiddled with it. Finally, he looked up at the big man. "Did Lia get away?"

Cole saw the anguished fear that was on the other man's face and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "She got away, Damon," he said in a soft, serious voice. He'd never asked what the situation between Baird and the Lieutenant was, had figured that if Baird wanted him to know that he'd have told him. But Augustus Cole was wise enough to know that what he saw in the man's face was not the normal _me-me-me_ Damon Baird that he'd come to know and understand. "Before I came lookin' for you I made sure the Lieutenant got away. She regrouped with Alpha-7."

Baird nodded, clearly relieved to know that the Lieutenant was safe. He slipped his earpiece back in and looked at Cole. "Thanks, man," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."

"No problem, baby."

"Hey, let's get a move on you two," Marcus said. "We ain't got all day."

Baird made a _ffff_ sound but didn't trust himself to say more than that. He drew in a deep breath, locking his fear and concerns back inside before turning to join Marcus and Dom. Cole saw the mask-the cold and seemingly unfeeling one that Baird typically wore, fall back into place and realized that there was more to Damon Baird than any of them had realized. Everyone has secrets, Cole told himself as he turned to amble after Marcus and Dom. And Damon Baird was no exception. And there were some secrets that Cole knew were worth risking everything for, that had to be protected no matter what the cost. _I gotcha back, baby_, he thought as he caught up with the others. _Your secret is safe with the Cole-Train._


End file.
